Courtney walked into City Jazz and glanced around. She had arrived thirty minutes early to obtain a level of comfort and get her bearings.
Harper had asked how he would recognize her, but not once did he mention how she would recognize him. Lucky for her, a photograph of him had been posted on his company’s Web site. Although he was sitting down behind a desk, she could tell he was tall, well-built, and that his features were pretty nice. Clean-shaven head, coffee-colored skin, dark eyes, nice set of lips, and a smile that had reached out to her.
She walked over to the bar to say hello to Stan the bartender. They’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had attended high school together, so their friendship went way back. The room was crowded, not unusual
for a Friday night, and the musicians were getting geared up on stage. This would be her first blind date, and since she now possessed the black book, it wouldn’t be her last—unless she struck gold with Harper. She slid onto the stool and smiled at Stan Freemont. “Hi, Stan.”
“Court, how you’ve been?”
“Fine. How’s the liquor business going?”
“Great. And the drugs?”
“Still paying the bills.”
He nodded and wiped off the counter in front of her. “I hadn’t seen you around lately.”
“Been studying. Trying to move up within the company.”
“Good luck on that, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. You were always smart in school.”
“Thanks, but with age comes fuzz on the brain. How’s Marla and the boys?” she asked. His wife was also a former classmate, and his two sons were just adorable.
“Everyone in the Freemont household is doing fine. So what would you like to drink? Your usual?”
“No, just cola for now. I’m meeting someone tonight, so drinks will come later. I don’t want to start too early, since I need to keep a clear head.”
He chuckled as he walked off to get her soda.
She turned and watched the club’s entrance. Every time a man walked in alone, she felt her heart rate increase. “Okay, get a grip,” she whispered to herself and waved when a couple she knew from the local spa recognized her as they were leaving.
“Here you are,” Stan said, placing the drink in front
of her. “If you change your mind and want something with a little more kick, let me know. The margaritas are two for one tonight.”
He knew that was her favorite drink. “Thanks, but I’m limiting myself, since I need to drive home later.”
“Good decision.”
When Stan walked off again, Courtney took a sip of her drink and turned on her stool toward the stage to enjoy the musicians. A short while later, she glanced at her watch. Harper was fifteen minutes late. The only thing about arriving at a place early was that it annoyed her when someone else was late. Suddenly things that she hadn’t thought about earlier went flying through her mind. What if he changed his mind and wasn’t coming? Not once had she considered the possibility that he might stand her up, since during their phone conversation he’d seemed so eager to connect with her.
A few minutes later—ten, to be exact—she was still watching the door. Thirty full minutes would be the max. Anything else, as far as she was concerned, was unacceptable. She was about to turn around and motion for Stan to refill her drink when a man she immediately knew was Harper walked in.
He was as tall as she’d assumed he would be, and his features were just as they were on the Internet—striking. Her annoyance with his inability to arrive for their date on time fell by the wayside when he looked at her, met her gaze, then slowly glanced down at her crossed legs. His eyes locked on her anklet, and then he looked back up at her face and blinked as if he was taken back. Apparently,
he’d thought the woman he was meeting tonight was less than desirable. Blind dates, she realized, could indeed be like that. So far, she was happy with what she saw, and if the smile on his face was any indication, so was he.
He crossed the room to where she sat. “Courtney?” he asked, as if he needed to be absolutely sure.
She knew the feeling. Letting go of a small breath, she smiled. “Yes. Harper?”
He returned her smile. “Yes?”
Courtney offered him her hand. He took it, and his eyes twinkled. “Nice meeting you, and I’m in no way disappointed.”
“Neither am I.” For whatever reason, she got the distinct feeling she was going to enjoy his company tonight.
He slid onto the stool beside her. “I reserved a table for us.” He looked at his watch. “It should be ready in a few minutes.”
“All right.”
He studied her curiously, and her lips twitched slightly before she looked away to where a renowned trumpeter had taken center stage. She found it amusing that he thought she was a puzzle he needed to figure out.
Slightly inclining his head, he asked. “So, would I be wasting my time asking where you got my number to contact me?”
She met his gaze. “Does it really matter?”
His eyes skimmed down her body, and then he looked back to her, smiled, and said, “No.”
She looped some loose strands of hair behind her ear
and said, “Then, yes, it would be a waste of your time.” He laughed, and suddenly she felt at ease with him.
He glanced at his watch. “Our table should be ready now. Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?” he asked, standing.
Smiling, she replied softly. “I would love to.”
By the end of dinner, Courtney was convinced that she liked him. He was pleasant company who liked talking about himself and his job. But he hadn’t dominated the conversation, and he seemed interested in her life and occupation, as well. He was impressed that she could speak several different languages. And it didn’t go unnoticed that most of the time his gaze focused on her with laser-like concentration.
“So, tell me something in French,” he leaned over and whispered huskily.
She smiled and did what he’d asked.
“What did you say?”
She took a sip of her drink before saying, “I said that I’m enjoying your company and I’m glad we met tonight.”
“I feel likewise.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but are you Harper Isaac?”
Both turned automatically toward the sound of the intruding voice and found two men in dark suits standing beside their table. Even from across the table, she could feel Harper suddenly tense when he said, “Yes, I’m Harper Isaac.”
One of the men suddenly flashed a badge. “We’re with the FBI, and you’re under arrest for embezzlement.”
Harper stood. “There must be some mistake.”
“I’m afraid not,” the other man said, and before Courtney could blink, a pair of handcuffs were placed on Harper’s hands while one of the agents read him his rights.
They had already become the center of attention, and now with the string of loud obscenities pouring forth from Harper’s lips, they were doubly so. She wanted to speak up in his behalf, declare there must be some mistake, but she didn’t trust herself to speak, mainly because she had just met him tonight. What had the FBI agent said? Harper had embezzled his employer?
“I need you to get me an attorney.”
She came out of her daze to realize Harper had spoken to her. “An attorney?”
“Yes,” he all but snapped.
“What’s his name, and I’ll be glad to call him for you.”
He was looking at her with impatience. “I don’t have one. I need you to get one for me. Please do that for me, sweetheart, and when this is over, I’ll repay every cent you put out to help clear my name.”
Sweetheart? How had she gone from just Courtney to sweetheart? And clear his name? Was he insinuating that he wanted her to pay any legal fees associated with his arrest? Good grief! She glanced around, and it seemed all eyes were on them. She knew Stan, but she suddenly prayed that no one else in the establishment knew her.
She opened her mouth to say something, but it was too late. The two federal agents were dragging a loud and
belligerent Harper Isaac away. Suddenly, Stan was there at her side. “Go ahead and leave, Court. I’ll take care of the bill.”
She again opened her mouth, but Stan’s stern expression told her it was best to do what he suggested. She had never felt so embarrassed in her entire life. She bit back a relieved sigh, grateful those agents hadn’t thought she was an accomplice and hauled her off to jail along with Harper.
With fluid ease and as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, she stood from her chair. “Thanks, Stan.”
“That’s what friends are for. I’ll call and check on you later.”
She nodded. Her knees trembled as she crossed the floor. She left the club thinking Harper Isaac’s name would definitely get scratched from her little black book.